


Calculated Risk

by carpemermaid



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Kink Discovery, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Daddy Kink, Future Fic, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Locker Room, M/M, Praise Kink, Sawamura Daichi's Thighs, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Soft Dom Daichi, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 08:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16058951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpemermaid/pseuds/carpemermaid
Summary: Oikawa likes to tease Daichi by calling him daddy to get under his skin—only, it eventually backfires for both of them in a way neither of them expected when the game first began. Newsflash: Oikawa Tooru is really bad at math.





	Calculated Risk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [restlessandordinary](https://archiveofourown.org/users/restlessandordinary/gifts).



> AKA the Daddy Thighchi Thirstfic™ for **restlessandordinary** , who barely had to twist my arm at all to get me to write this.
> 
> So, today on things-I-never-thought-I'd-write......this..... ^_^;;

For all the time that Oikawa spends analyzing and calculating the best ways to beat his opponents, he actually has little control over his brain-to-mouth filter when it comes to what he says. It’s something that gets him in trouble often, and after he graduates Aoba Johsai he isn’t lucky enough to have his best friend attending the same university as him to keep him in check. He gets really good at ducking away from anyone too annoyed by the things he says to stir up competition, smug grin stretched wide on his face as he scampers on long legs back to the safety of his team’s bench.

Oikawa can’t say exactly what it is that makes him push his opponents the way he does—unsure whether it’s the satisfaction of saying more and more outlandish things until he gets a reaction or just getting into their head to make them play that much harder that he enjoys more.

And then he’s faced with Sawamura Daichi, Karasuno’s ex-captain, on the other side of the net for a practice match at a training camp.

Sawamura eyes Oikawa with a mix of fierce determination and a hint of curiosity. There’s none of the fear or wariness in his eyes that Oikawa’s found in others after only a couple of remarks. No matter what he says, he can’t get Sawamura’s concentration and dedication to being a steadfast support for his team to crack under the pressure Oikawa applies.

So Oikawa leaps without thinking, without an ounce of consideration, and before he knows it they’re staring at each other on the front line rotation and it slips past his lips before he can even finish processing that what he’s saying.

“Hey there, Daddy.”

Sawamura blinks, momentarily thrown, and Oikawa’s lips curl into a triumphant smirk. He doesn’t miss a beat, fully committing himself to teasing Sawamura to get in his head. He leans closer to the net and drops his voice into a flirtatious, husky tone that’s all syrup and smoke as he whispers the word again. This time there’s no reaction and Oikawa tries again, puckering up his lips and blowing a kiss. Still nothing.

Oikawa huffs, returning his focus to the game. He keeps going, trying to rile Sawamura up to get under his skin. He’s sure if he keeps up the game that he’ll be rewarded with another reaction like before—maybe if he’s lucky it’ll be like a volcano waiting to erupt, if Sawamura’s holding it all in until his real reaction explodes out of him.

He plays it up even more, greeting Sawamura as _Daddy_ every time they make a full rotation and winking in his direction.

When the game is over and the teams are shaking hands, Oikawa thanks Sawamura for playing so hard.

“You’re so dedicated to the game. It’s impressive,” Oikawa says. The corner of his mouth quirks up.

“Yeah, you, too,” Sawamura says with a funny little smile that Oikawa can’t quite read. Oikawa squints; he’s usually really great at reading people, it’s part of his skill as a setter.

He doesn’t ask about why Oikawa called him daddy, or even seem embarrassed. All he says is that Oikawa can call him by his first name and asks if he wants to practice serves and receives together for free practice. Somehow that makes Oikawa even more interested in the game he inadvertently started. It’s a new puzzle to figure out. Oikawa loves a good puzzle.

It becomes a thing.

Oikawa hangs around Daichi in the down time they get at the training camp. He spends twenty minutes referring to him as Daddy instead of his name, but Daichi only gives him that serene little smile that Oikawa can’t figure out.

Later, after the training camp, Oikawa finds Daichi’s Instagram and sends him a direct message full of emojis.

 **> >oikawa_t [20:58]:** _daddyyyyy I found you!!!!_

Daichi doesn’t respond for two days, and when he does, he only sends back a simple _hey_. Oikawa reasons that he’d rather see Daichi’s reactions in person, anyway. Instead, he sends Daichi Instagram stories from players on the Japan national team that he follows and Daichi sends him posts from dog accounts.

Their paths continue to cross as players for two universities that face off on the court often. Oikawa continues to play his game with Daichi, cataloguing the small reactions he manages to provoke. No matter how small, they’re worth the effort Oikawa puts in—more-so than his previous antics at riling up other players even though they reacted more strongly to his trash talking. Something about Daichi presents a challenge for Oikawa, one that keeps him interested in playing with almost the same level of dedication he has for volleyball.

Once, they both happen to be on the same train to Sendai for winter break. Oikawa spots Daichi when they’re boarding the same train car. He grins and sweet talks the woman sitting next to Daichi until she agrees to switch seats with him so he and his _long lost friend_ can catch up on the ride home. He is his most charming self when he thanks her for her kindness. Oikawa lives for the little telltale twitch of Daichi’s eyebrows and the slight downturn at the corners of his mouth when Oikawa slides into the seat beside him. Oikawa is _finally_ getting to him.

He spends the next two hours scooting as close as he’s able to get away with without being indecent in public, all so he can murmur things in Daichi’s ear, lips just shy of brushing against Daichi’s skin.

“You know, I remember now—you ordered those little crows of yours around so well,” Oikawa says. Daichi holds still, peeking at Oikawa from the corner of his eye as Oikawa continues on. “But you can’t tell _me_ what to do, can you Daddy? I’m too much for you to handle.” Oikawa slouches low in his seat so he can peer up at Daichi through his tousled fringe. His mouth tilts up into a pleased smile. “You’re too nice to even tell me to fuck off. You’re going to sit there for two whole hours and let me tease you, aren’t you?”

Daichi says nothing. He only hums and offers one of his earbuds for Oikawa to share before returning to the movie he’s watching on his phone. Oikawa keeps trying, letting himself ramble on mindlessly for a bit, so he’s not paying complete attention when Daichi blushes and looks out the window, shifting stiffly in his seat. He wishes he knew exactly what he said. The rest of the ride goes by quickly, and Daichi says nothing when Oikawa ends up falling asleep during the movie with his head pillowed on Daichi’s shoulder.

It’s not until they’re both captains of their university teams that things finally shift.

Oikawa’s team beat Daichi’s after Daichi’s had nearly trounced them and taken the final set. It was a rough match of hard-won points, each set climbing into the high twenties. Oikawa watched Daichi’s team shuffling into the spare locker room while he was giving his own teammates words of encouragement for how well they played.

After he sends the first years off to put away the equipment, Oikawa goes to check if the spare locker room is empty so he can lock it up.

He stands in the doorway, hesitating when he notices that Daichi’s still there. He glances over his shoulder and sees that the last of his teammates are finishing up, preparing to leave the gym and decides he can rub it in a little that his team won. Oikawa steps into the locker room and waits for the door to click shut behind him, the sound echoing slightly off the walls.

“Sulking about your loss? Don’t worry,” Oikawa says in a bratty tone that would’ve earned him a swift smack from Iwaizumi for being an asshole. “There’s always next time.”

Daichi sighs and looks up at Oikawa. He’s seated on one of the benches without his shirt on and a towel slung around his neck.

“Next time,” Daichi says, running the towel over the side of his face. “We’ll definitely beat you next time. It’s what we do. You win, we win; rinse, repeat.”

Oikawa _tsks_ and ambles closer, leaning one hip against a locker a couple of meters away from where Daichi’s seated on the bench. “Don’t be grumpy. Unless you’re being like that because you want me to cheer you up… _Daddy_.”

Daichi covers his face with the towel and Oikawa snickers, soaking up the joy of gloating.

“You’re such a bad sport,” Daichi says, voice muffled by the towel. “I don’t even know why I’m friends with you.”

Oikawa looks around the empty locker room. “Where’d your teammates go? Leave already?”

“Yeah,” Daichi says, letting the towel drop to hang around his shoulders. He leans his elbows on his knees and scratches at his cropped hair. “Most of them walked today. It’s only a couple of blocks to our campus from yours.”

Oikawa hums noncommittally. “Doesn’t quite have the same bonding effect as a ride home on a team bus does. I hope you don’t have any problem children on your team.”

“No, but we have a team meeting tomorrow, right before morning practice. We’ll go over the game then,” Daichi explains.

Oikawa nods and shifts his weight, searching for something else to say to get under Daichi’s skin a bit. He grins and turns to Daichi. “You’re such a good dad. You’ve got it all covered, huh? You really take care of your team. It’s—really nice.”

Their eyes meet. Something’s different—Oikawa can feel it in the air as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Oikawa’s still riding high on the rush of victory and success—of _winning_ —but something changes, shifting the status quo between them.

Daichi’s gaze is steady, dark eyes warm and pinning Oikawa in place where he leans against the locker, the metal digging into his shoulder blade. Oikawa’s smug grin slowly drops and he blinks. He takes in the slope of Daichi’s neck where it leads into his broad shoulders. He’d discarded his shirt and practice jersey in favor of toweling off before Oikawa even walked in; his tanned skin is still slightly flushed from the game. Oikawa’s attention darts lower, following the line of Daichi’s biceps as he swipes the towel over his chest. Oikawa’s eyes glaze over a little at the sight of Daichi sitting there, comfortable under Oikawa’s gaze. Not only comfortable, but _trusting_. He meets Daichi’s eyes once more and freezes when he realizes Daichi has been staring at him, _saw_ him checking him out.

“Come here,” Daichi says, voice ringing out in the quiet of the locker room. No, not says—it’s anything but conversational. It’s a command.

Oikawa blinks and makes a confused sound, wanting to be sure he’s not having a vivid hallucination. Daichi’s looking at Oikawa in a different way than his usual expression of exasperation, eyes hinting a promise of something good and an edge of holding himself back. Oikawa stands there staring at Daichi’s outstretched hand and Oikawa swallows thickly.

“My lap,” Daichi offers, patting one thigh.

Oikawa’s breath leaves him in a rush.

He pictures it, perching on Daichi’s legs, leaning against Daichi’s chest and taking comfort in his embrace. That’s—That’s—

Daichi’s ordered Oikawa to sit in his lap.

He’s on the bench in the locker room, shirtless, dressed in only his gym shorts with a towel hanging around his neck, looking at Oikawa like he expects him to do as he says and Oikawa’s never obeyed a request so fast in his life.

Oikawa trips over his own feet, stumbling in his haste to close the distance between them and practically falls into Daichi’s open arms. He doesn’t even give himself the time to feel embarrassed or ashamed at the idea of sitting in Daichi’s lap, all he’s focused on is how warm and solid Daichi’s body is against his. Oikawa’s first thought when his brain catches up with itself is _strong_. Daichi’s legs easily support him; he can feel the muscles in his thighs shift to accommodate Oikawa’s weight. Daichi waits a beat, doing nothing but holding Oikawa on his lap for a moment. When he does move, he goes slow, leaving ample enough room for Oikawa to get up and leave the minute it’s too much. Oikawa can feel the unspoken assurance in Daichi’s steady voice in the way his warm palm rests against Oikawa’s thigh. His blunt fingers slowly trail over Oikawa’s hip, up his side, and his arms come to wrap around his waist to hold him. Oikawa can feel Daichi’s forearms flexing minutely against his stomach.

He’s unable to hold back the strained sound he makes in the back of his throat, feeling a hot flush spreading all over his body while Daichi just holds him there.

Oikawa’s no wilting flower; he’s just as strong as Daichi, lean muscles honed from years of drills and training to perfect his athletic build. Yet something about the way Daichi easily holds him on his lap, with Oikawa’s longer legs sprawled out to one side, makes Oikawa forget about all of that. All he can think is _comfortable_ and _strong_ and _safe_ and the heat prickles under the surface of his skin.

He closes his eyes and swallows, thinking about all the ways Daichi is there for the teammates he plays with. He’s always got their back, always there to support them—he _believes_ in them. It’s a heady thought, to feel like Daichi could believe in him, too, while he holds Oikawa closer, tucking his nose against the back of Oikawa’s neck.

Daichi shifts and moves his head to peek over Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa can feel Daichi’s breath on his neck, hot little puffs that make his skin tingle as he runs his palms down Oikawa’s stomach and back up again, under his shirt. He still goes slow, humming at each inch of skin Oikawa lets him touch. Daichi’s thumb caresses lightly, circling around Oikawa’s belly button and traces the edges of his clenched abs. Daichi runs his hand back down, over Oikawa’s legs. He pushes up the hem of Oikawa’s shorts higher so he can stroke his fingers over Oikawa’s thighs.

As Daichi slowly and methodically maps his exploration of Oikawa’s body, Oikawa begins to shiver and twitch. Daichi explores until Oikawa is nearly trembling in his arms, nerve endings alight with the attention Daichi is showering on him.

Oikawa remains silent except for the breathy exhales every time Daichi finds a particularly sensitive patch of skin. When he does discover one, he makes an inquisitive little sound, glancing up at Oikawa and he carefully traces over the sensitive spot again with tender care. Oikawa bites his lip as Daichi drags his fingers over the inside of his knee, the jut of his hipbone, and his inner thigh.

“Lean back so you can relax more. I’ve got you,” Daichi murmurs, guiding Oikawa so he can tilt his head back to rest on Daichi’s shoulder. His eyes flutter open and quickly fall closed again on a shaky exhale.

Daichi continues to touch him, palming at his thighs and spreading his legs so that he’s on display on Daichi’s lap—vulnerable to anyone who might walk in at that moment and putty in Daichi’s hands. He’s trusting Daichi with this. It’s nice to let go and just experience what Daichi’s doing to him.

“Does it feel good, Oikawa?” Daichi asks.

Oikawa makes a sound in the back of his throat and nods, turning his head so he can feel the slight stubble of Daichi’s jaw against the tip of his nose. He lets himself go a little more, relaxing back into Daichi’s embrace, allowing Daichi to support all of his weight. He feels sort of like he could float away, only Daichi’s tethering him, taking care of him. It’s like Daichi is slowly rubbing away every worry from Oikawa’s body and with each caress of Daichi’s palm Oikawa is melting more and more into his touch.

Oikawa’s eyes fly open when Daichi’s hand covers his groin, squeezing his erection gently and humming questioningly in his ear.

“Is this okay? Do you like when I—when, um.” Daichi hesitates for just a moment, tilting his head towards Oikawa. He sucks in a quick breath and brings his lips closer.

“When Daddy touches you like this?” Daichi’s voice is a deep rumble against the shell of Oikawa’s ear.

Oikawa feels his own pulse thudding; a hot prickle tingles over his skin when he hears _Daddy_ fall from Daichi’s lips. He becomes more aware of his body, aware of the hot coil of arousal stirring deep in his belly and that his dick is beginning to harden in his shorts.

 _Yes_ , his mind sings at him. His thoughts are starting to jumble together, crowding each other in a way Oikawa is too confused by, slow to pick them apart as he comes out of the fog his mind had settled into. Daichi’s waiting for an answer, waiting for Oikawa to choose.

Oikawa’s only aware of one thing.

He wants whatever Daichi’s offering—trusts that he wouldn’t hurt Oikawa.

He presses his hips up into Daichi’s hand, rolling them to seek more pressure on his dick than the feather-light touch of Daichi’s hand hovering over it.

“Please,” Oikawa whispers hoarsely, his voice still too loud to his own ears in the quiet of the locker room. “Please…Daddy.”

This time it feels different to call him that, more weighted; the word nearly gets caught on his tongue before he pushes it out. Before this it was a game—he was teasing Daichi just to rile him up. But now—like this…Oikawa bites his lip as Daichi rubs his dick with a firmer touch, rewarding him. He makes a pleased sound against Oikawa’s neck.

“You look so good like this,” Daichi praises, fingers tracing the growing outline of Oikawa’s cock as it becomes more defined. “You won the game today. You played incredibly well, as usual. Should Daddy give you a treat for that?”

Oikawa doesn’t realize at first that the sound that echoes off the walls came from him. Daichi’s voice steadily gains confidence and he digs his fingers into the meat of Oikawa’s thigh with one hand for a beat before he brings it back to squeeze Oikawa’s erection now that it’s straining against his shorts.

“I love your long legs,” Daichi says. He presses his face into Oikawa’s neck.

Oikawa feels like he’s dancing on the edge of delirium, corners of his mouth ticking up as he rubs himself against Daichi’s palm, giving into baser instincts. What they’re doing is insane—he’s distantly aware of that. Two rival captains, touching in the locker room where anyone could walk in. Oikawa didn’t even lock the door. He can’t bring himself to care or think about it for very long when Daichi tugs at one pant leg of his shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Daichi asks, and, god, his voice is so earnest that Oikawa can’t imagine denying him. “I want to make you feel really good.”

“Shit—okay. Okay, yeah,” Oikawa agrees.

He can feel the shift of Daichi’s muscular thighs beneath him as Daichi reaches down, helping Oikawa wriggle out of his shorts. He lets go when one leg is off, leaving the shorts to dangle from his other leg. Oikawa’s about to kick them off, but aborts the motion midway when Daichi’s palm wraps around his dick and makes his brain run off the tracks.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks wildly.

Daichi’s hand feels perfect wrapped around him, pumping his cock in sure, confident strokes with steady pressure. He groans under his breath when Daichi twists his hand and swipes his thumb over the head. Daichi hums and switches his grip, playing more with Oikawa’s foreskin.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be that quiet. It’s only us here,” Daichi says. He kisses Oikawa’s neck. “Let me hear you.”

“There’s loud or quiet, there is no—ah, shit, like that—no in between,” Oikawa says, shuddering when Daichi reaches lower to roll Oikawa’s balls, massaging them. “You’re—mm—really good at that.”

“Do you like it like this, or do you want it harder? Faster? Tell me what you need so I can give it to you.” Daichi’s words are kissed against Oikawa’s neck as he strokes him. “I want to know exactly how you like it.”

Oikawa keens, pressing into the circle of Daichi’s hand. Daichi wraps his other arm around Oikawa and trails kisses up his neck, opening his mouth and sucking, teeth grazing just hard enough for Oikawa to buck into Daichi’s hand with another strangled sound.

“So responsive,” Daichi mutters against his skin. Daichi squeezes Oikawa in a hug and buries his face in the spot where Oikawa’s neck meets his shoulder. He can’t hear what Daichi says, but whines when Daichi slows his hand down to tease the slit of his dick, spreading the bead of precome that’s gathered there.

Daichi circles his fingers around Oikawa’s cock again. Oikawa can feel Daichi’s erection against his ass; it’s straining against the thin material of Daichi’s shorts. He wiggles his hips to rub back against it, feeling a bloom of pleasure in his chest when Daichi’s breath hitches and his hand speeds up on Oikawa’s dick.

Oikawa bites his lip and feels the pleasure building, licking across his skin in a burst of heat. Daichi’s arm tightens around him and his hand gives another squeeze-twist that lights Oikawa up. There’s a sensation expanding in his chest, billowing like a cloud at the feeling of being held and taken care of. It’s like he’s soaring, suspended at the top of his highest jump. It’s heady and could be something Oikawa could grow addicted to.

Daichi’s hand pumps him, teasing him closer and closer. He kisses and drags his teeth over Oikawa’s neck, murmuring to him. His hand grips Oikawa’s shirt, holding it up to expose him even more as he works Oikawa’s cock and jerks him off. Oikawa needs more.

He begins to tremble, thrashing in Daichi’s hold so he can fuck into Daichi’s hand as much as he’s allowed to.

“I’m close,” he breathes. A whine escapes him as he twitches his hips again, but Daichi still controls the pace. Oikawa begs, “Fu- _fu_ ck, oh fuck, please—so close.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Daichi says. He presses another kiss to Oikawa’s shoulder and whispers encouragement against his heated skin. “That’s it. Look at you, being so good for me. Does it feel nice?”

Oikawa moans, turning his face towards Daichi. His chest is rising and falling with each ragged breath; he’s teetering right on the edge and he’s growing desperate as he searches for the pressure that’ll push him over into oblivion.

“That’s it,” Daichi repeats, voice steady in Oikawa’s ear. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. Can you come for me?”

“Fu-uh—c—” Oikawa chokes out as he shakes apart in Daichi’s arms. His entire body sings with pleasure as he tips over the edge, eyes squeezing shut as the waves crest over his body, trickling over his limbs in electric shocks of bliss.

His cock jerks in Daichi’s hand, spilling over Daichi’s fingers as he slows the pace and works Oikawa through his orgasm.

When Oikawa comes back to himself after a few moments of blissed-out lethargy, Daichi is holding him close and rubbing a soothing hand over his chest. Oikawa blinks slowly, savoring the post-orgasm tingle that makes his limbs feel heavy and sated.

“You did so well,” Daichi says softly. He taps his fingers against Oikawa’s side and encourages him to move. “Come on, up.”

Oikawa’s legs feel wobbly when he stands, his shorts dropping down to pool around his ankle, but Daichi is there, hand resting supportively on his back as he cleans Oikawa off with the towel he had before. Daichi sets the towel aside and makes Oikawa hold onto his shoulder while he directs him to step back into his shorts. Once he’s cleaned up, Oikawa comes back to himself a little more and realizes Daichi is still hard. It’s almost comical, the bulge in his shorts straining against the thin material. He wants to return the favor; the part of his brain that pathologically chases after being the best sparks to life with the thrill of competition and he’s filled with a sense of determination to break Daichi’s composure as much as he wrecked Oikawa’s just now.

“Thanks, _Daddy_ ,” Oikawa says, letting his voice slide into a saucy tone. He takes a step closer to Daichi so that his legs brush against Daichi’s erection and places his hands on Daichi’s chest. “I had no idea you liked it so much when I called you that.”

“I, uh,” Daichi says, visibly swallowing. His pupils are blown wide and Oikawa can feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Daichi admits, “Yeah. I didn’t either. It just sort of—built up?”

“Joke’s on me, then,” Oikawa mutters. He brings his face close to Daichi’s, bumping their noses against each other and meets Daichi’s eyes. He holds his gaze as he slowly slides his thigh against the front of Daichi’s shorts. “Want me to keep being good for you? I can take care of you, too.”

Daichi flushes, his lips parting. His hips jerk forward against Oikawa’s leg and makes a rough sound in the back of his throat. Oikawa’s mouth stretches into a satisfied grin and he lights up at how affected Daichi is.

“Want to fuck my mouth, Daddy?” Oikawa offers, tipping his head to the side and ignores the hot flush that blooms in his cheeks, the squirming feeling in his stomach at saying something like that. It’s worth it for the way Daichi reacts.

“Oh,” Daichi says on an exhale, grinding harder against Oikawa’s thigh.

His hands come up to rest on Oikawa’s hips, holding him in place, squeezing as he rolls his hips again, dragging his erection against Oikawa’s leg. His eyes flutter, attention on Oikawa’s lips.

“You want to make me come?” Daichi asks, voice strained and tinged with need.

Oikawa hums and slides one hand down Daichi’s chest and around to his ass, squeezing as he pulls Daichi closer. “Gonna make you come, and then I’m going to swallow it. That’s a promise, Daddy.”

“Fuck,” Daichi groans, letting his forehead drop to Oikawa’s shoulder and ruts against Oikawa’s leg without any shame. His grip flexes on Oikawa’s hips.

“Maybe later. Next time,” Oikawa says. Daichi makes another rough sound that spreads heat over Oikawa’s body.

Oikawa glances at the floor and grimaces—even with his knee brace still on, it wouldn’t be good to kneel. He tries to think of another solution, but his thoughts are clouded with the overwhelming need to worship the thighs that were just holding him up as he came. He curses his knee; he just wants to drop to the floor and get his mouth on Daichi’s cock. Oikawa eyes the bench and debates the merits of being in that position so Daichi could straddle him, brain tripping over the logistics while he’s in a haze of arousal.

“Should I lay down?” he asks, nodding to the bench.

Daichi cups his jaw, rubbing his thumb over the corner of Oikawa’s mouth. “That won’t be comfortable for you.”

Oikawa flushes when Daichi glances down at his knee with a pointed look.

“Wait here a minute,” Daichi says.

He goes over to a storage closet and pulls out a stack of extra towels. Daichi layers them on the floor to make a cushion for Oikawa to kneel on without hurting his knee. Oikawa swallows at the display, feeling a little unbalanced on his feet when Daichi turns to smile at him warmly. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and steps closer to Daichi, bringing his hands up to trace the waistband of his shorts, fingers dipping beneath it.

“Take these off? I want to see you,” Oikawa says.

Daichi nods and Oikawa hooks his fingers in the elastic band to tug them down in one smooth motion. Daichi holds onto Oikawa’s shoulder for balance as he steps out of his shorts, kicking the material away from his volleyball shoes so that he’s standing there, completely nude before Oikawa. His cock juts out proudly, bobbing when he moves. He sits on the bench and lets his legs fall open, leaning back on his hands. He tips his face back to look up at Oikawa invitingly.

Oikawa plans to suck his soul out through his dick.

Oikawa sinks down to his knees, shuffling forward into position between Daichi’s legs. He wastes no time running his fingers over Daichi’s thighs, marveling at the muscle definition beneath the pads of his fingers. He takes his time, putting as much care into his exploration as Daichi did when he had Oikawa in his lap. Oikawa follows the curve of Daichi’s knee and gently scrapes his nails over Daichi’s inner thigh, delighting in the way it makes Daichi jump and shift, his legs opening a little wider to accommodate him. Oikawa leans closer and places soft kisses that grow sloppy up one thigh and down the other, licking and sucking and nipping at Daichi’s skin. He worships Daichi’s thighs, paying attention to every inch of them as he listens to the shallow breathing and soft sighs.

Daichi runs his fingers through Oikawa’s hair as his hands move in light caresses up and down Daichi’s legs. Oikawa bumps his head against Daichi’s hand in a silent plea for more, smiling up at Daichi when he repeats the motion, carding his fingers through his hair and brushing his fringe back.

He holds Daichi’s gaze as he finally shifts forward to close his lips around Daichi’s cock. Daichi’s eyes nearly close all the way and his lips part on a sigh of pleasure.

“ _Oh_ ,” Daichi says in a hushed tone, hunching forward and cupping the back of Oikawa’s head. “God that’s...yeah.”

Oikawa hums and sinks his lips lower, taking more of Daichi’s dick into his mouth in slow increments to prolong the sensation of sliding into the wet heat of his mouth. He presses his tongue against the underside and savors every twitch of Daichi’s body until his nose is tickled by the coarse curls of pubic hair at the base of Daichi’s cock.

The breathy sound Daichi makes is music to Oikawa’s ears.

He slurps his way back up and laps at Daichi, running his tongue up the velvety hot slide of Daichi’s dick. Daichi’s fingers twitch abortively on the back of Oikawa’s head and his hips shift slightly on the bench. Oikawa interprets that he’s holding himself back from grabbing Oikawa and holding him down so he can fuck his mouth with abandon.

Oikawa brings his hands up to grip Daichi’s thighs, rubbing circles with his thumbs as he bobs his head up and down. He takes a deep breath before taking Daichi deeper, the head of his dick touching the back of his throat.

“Fuck, Oi _kawa_ ,” Daichi moans. His fingers slide into Oikawa’s hair again, gripping without force as Oikawa holds him in his mouth, moving his tongue sensually. “Oh god, yeah, like—like that. Ah, that’s so good. You’re doing so good.”

Oikawa pulls back and suckles at the head, dragging his tongue over the sensitive foreskin. He smirks up at Daichi when he twitches and jerks up into Oikawa’s open mouth. Daichi’s eyes are heavy-lidded, mouth open as he pants out more praise. Oikawa takes him deep once again and slowly slides up and down on his cock.

“Your mouth is so g—ah, yes— _ah_!” Daichi strokes the sides of Oikawa’s face, his jaw; he traces his blunt fingers over the edges of Oikawa’s mouth where his lips are stretched around Daichi’s erection.

Daichi’s eyes focus on Oikawa’s mouth and he pulls his bottom lip with his thumb into a pout. Oikawa looks up at him and slides his tongue back and forth over Daichi’s length while he trembles. His eyes crinkle at the corners and he smiles around his mouthful of Daichi’s dick.

He pulls back just enough to mumble garbled words without fulling releasing Daichi from his mouth.

“Fuck me, Daddy. Use my mouth.”

“Hah—shit,” Daichi says through clenched teeth.

He runs his fingers through Oikawa’s hair and holds the back of Oikawa’s head in a stronger grip. His other hand comes up to squeeze Oikawa’s shoulder before he starts rocking his hips. Oikawa hooks his arms around Daichi’s legs for support and holds on, keeping his mouth open for Daichi to use as he fucks into Oikawa’s mouth, cock a heady weight on Oikawa’s tongue.

Daichi buries one hand in Oikawa’s hair and thrusts faster. The sounds echoing in the locker room are obscene—Oikawa slurping and breathing through his nose, keening to encourage Daichi as he grunts and uses Oikawa for his own pleasure.

Oikawa squeezes Daichi’s thighs and Daichi seizes up, gasping.

“I’m coming, I’m coming—oh, fuck,” Daichi babbles, fist tightening for a brief second in Oikawa’s hair.

Daichi’s come spurts onto Oikawa’s tongue and he starts to swallow, bringing one hand to loosely circle the base of Daichi’s dick as he rides out his orgasm. Daichi hunches over Oikawa, stroking his hair and rubbing a hand over Oikawa’s back.

“Thank you, thank you,” Daichi repeats in a litany.

Oikawa turns his head and kisses the inside of Daichi’s thigh, subtly wiping his face off. Daichi huffs out a laugh.

“I saw that,” Daichi says.

An air of awkwardness blankets the room as Oikawa sits back on his heels. Daichi scrubs a hand over his face and Oikawa stands up. He and Daichi just…did that. In his university gym’s locker room. Oikawa squeezes the back of his neck with his palm. Now that they’ve finished and reality is crashing around Oikawa’s ears, he needs to find a way to make sure Daichi won’t use this against him. Oikawa’s pretty sure it’s a mutual unspoken promise—he’s sure that Daichi’s not the kind of guy to use sensitive information against someone.

Oikawa’s mind is going a mile a minute until he feels strong arms come around him from behind. Daichi squeezes him in a hug, tugging Oikawa back against his chest. Feeling that solid support against his back makes Oikawa’s mind quiet down once more.

Daichi bumps his chin against the back of Oikawa’s shoulder. He’s still naked. Oikawa tangles his fingers with Daichi’s where they’re wrapped around his waist.

“Can I take you out for curry?” Oikawa thinks he can hear the smile in Daichi’s voice.

“Curry?” Oikawa repeats.

“Yeah. Playing three full sets and…and uh,” Daichi pauses to cough and presses his face against Oikawa’s shoulder. “ _That_ ,” he says, muffled into the back of Oikawa’s shirt. “I’m hungry. Aren’t you?”

“I could eat,” Oikawa says airily.

He’s trying to control the stupid smile that’s tugging at the corners of his mouth. Daichi could command him with ease, but saying they fucked has him stumbling over his words. It’s adorable, and Oikawa’s a little charmed by it.

“Good, so let me take you out. If you’re okay with it, we could go to my apartment after and talk about this. We can…figure it out as we go?” Daichi suggests. He sounds hopeful and Oikawa thinks about his promise of next time.

Oikawa turns around in Daichi’s embrace and cups Daichi’s face in both hands.

“Okay,” he agrees before leaning in to kiss him for the first time, brushing their lips together.

Daichi hums and deepens the kiss, sliding a palm up Oikawa’s back and moving his lips against Oikawa’s mouth. Daichi goes up on his tip toes slightly to even out the difference in their height and hugs Oikawa closer to him as they kiss. When they part, Daichi brushes his nose against Oikawa’s and meets his eyes with a pleased, open expression.

He steps back and picks up his shorts from the ground, stepping into them and pulling them up to cover himself up. Oikawa watches with an appreciative gaze, tracking the shift of Daichi’s back as he shrugs into his team track jacket, zipping it up without pulling his sweaty jersey back on.

Just as Daichi picks up his gym bag, the door to the locker room bangs open, making them both jump. It’s one of Oikawa’s kouhais, looking lost. Oikawa feels his soul leave his body for a brief moment. _Oh my god, if we’d finished ten minutes later we would have been caught_ , his mind supplies helpfully as the color drains from his face in a guilty rush.

“Yes?” Oikawa asks after a dreadful beat where his internal organs have rearranged themselves in his knees.

“Aren’t we going to have the meeting? We’ve been waiting for you,” the first year says, gesturing to the gym behind him.

Oikawa makes a frustrated noise while Daichi snorts, patting Oikawa on the shoulder.

“No,” Oikawa says slowly. “That’s tomorrow.”

“Oh. Okay, see you later, then, senpai,” the first year says, waving.

Oikawa runs a hand over his face and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Oh my god,” he says, all in one breath.

“So, curry?” Daichi offers, grinning at Oikawa with a lopsided smile that makes Oikawa’s stomach swoop. He holds out a hand.

“Curry,” Oikawa agrees. He takes Daichi’s offered hand and bumps his hip against Daichi’s, leaning close to whisper flirtatiously to him before they leave the locker room. “Will you buy me dessert, too, Daddy?”

Daichi trips over the threshold of the door as they exit, ears pink, but his hand grips Oikawa’s tightly, not letting go.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments + Kudos are ♥ | Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://birbsonthecourt.tumblr.com)!


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